


A Fate So Sweet

by Telesilla



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Steampunk, Beating, Caning, Community: mcshep_match, Corsetry, Dom/sub, Fucking Machines, M/M, Rimming, Spanking, Wordcount: 10.000-30.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-01
Updated: 2010-08-01
Packaged: 2017-10-14 10:33:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/148322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telesilla/pseuds/Telesilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney McKay, owner of the exclusive brothel Pegasus House, doesn't usually train new workers. Former airship pilot John Sheppard, however, might just prove the exception to the rule in more ways than one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Fate So Sweet

Rodney tried not to fidget as the red haired girl in the smooth, shiny leather hobble dress minced into the room. She was carrying a fully loaded tea tray which she placed carefully on a nearby table before glancing at him. He smiled a little and gestured toward the two women sitting opposite him. True, he was the guest, but his hostesses were women and should be served first.

 _And people say I have no manners._

Finally, everyone had their cups of tea and plates of scones.

"Thank you, Kate," Elizabeth said and with a soft murmur of acknowledgment, the girl knelt down next to the tea table.

"Excellent service as always," Rodney said after a sip of tea. "So...why am I here?"

"Oh, Rodney." Teyla chuckled a little.

"Can't you just enjoy your tea for a moment?" Elizabeth asked. Rodney gave her a look.

"I can get perfectly good tea at home, although I'll admit your cook does have a way with scones."

"Elizabeth, we should not tease poor Rodney."

"But it's so much fun!" Elizabeth said and then sighed. "Very well: Rodney, we have someone we think you might be interested in."

"A girl?"

There were a few women working at Pegasus House, but not very many. Almost all of Rodney's clients were men who preferred men, which was just fine with Rodney. After all, it was a lot easier to cater to people whose preferences matched his own.

"Of course not," Elizabeth said. "If we'd found a likely girl, we'd keep her for ourselves."

"So you found a boy you think I could work with?" Rodney stopped just short of mentioning that he had standards. Teyla and Elizabeth were old friends, but they were also professionals. Insulting them wouldn't get him very far.

"Kate, bring the boy in."

"We picked him up in a group lot from the debtor's prison," Teyla explained as Kate made her careful way toward the door. "There were a pair of girls we wanted and we figured we'd keep the other three in the lot for simple labor."

"But?" Rodney raised an eyebrow.

"This boy," Elizabeth said. "He seems to have something of an aptitude for...." her voice trailed off as the door opened again.

"Boy?" Rodney said with a snort. The figure behind Kate was fully hooded, but the only clothing he wore was a pair of simple leather pants. Looking at his bare chest, Rodney was fairly sure he was at least over twenty, possibly over twenty-five. Younger men didn't usually have that much chest hair or those kinds of scars.

"After a manner of speaking," Elizabeth said. She got to her feet, her silk skirts rustling, took the man's arm and led him into the middle of the parlor.

"He moves moderately well," Rodney said, putting his cup down and rising to his feet. "But still...."

"Watch this." Elizabeth said. Reaching out, she pinched one of the man's nipples between her gloved fingers and then twisted it hard. Rodney could see his breath catch and hear him moan, faintly, through the hood.

"Well, that's not much of an indicator." Rodney walked around the man, shaking his head. "Lousy posture...not much of an ass...nice back, though." He paused, his hand already raised. "May I?"

"Of course," Elizabeth said, stepping back.

Rodney gently rested his hand on the man's bare shoulder, pressing down. The man went to his knees easily enough, although not particularly gracefully. The hood had both buckles and laces; it took Rodney a moment or two to undo it and pull it off.

The man's hair was messy, and even right out of a hood, it sprang up in several directions. Rodney slid his fingers into it and knotted them, tugging hard; he was pleased when there was no protest.

"Close your eyes," he said, keeping his fingers in the man's hair as he crouched down behind him. "And open your mouth." He reached around with his free hand and pressed two fingers into the man's mouth, pushing hard. Almost immediately, warm lips closed around his fingers and he felt the strong pull of suction for just a moment.

"As Elizabeth said, aptitude." Teyla sounded amused.

Rodney pulled his fingers out of the man's mouth and stood up. "On your feet," he said, tugging hard on the thick hair. "All right, take the pants off; let's see the rest of it." He stepped back, finally letting go of the man's hair as the man carefully pulled his leather pants down.

"Keep your eyes closed," Rodney said, once the leather pants had hit the floor. He'd been right, the man hardly had the kind of ass that most men liked, although he did have nicely pale skin; he'd probably mark up well.

Walking around to the front, he looked at the man's cock. He was only half-hard, but surprisingly big, and Rodney shot an amused look at Teyla. "Is that what we're calling aptitude these days?"

She just smiled at him and Rodney turned back to see a very faint smirk on the man's face. It was an interesting face, striking in spite of the fairly thick stubble. He had a very nice mouth, but his nose had been broken and not perfectly set at some point. His eyes weren't just shut, they were tightly shut, showing faint fans at their corners. Rodney revised his estimate of the man's age up by ten years.

"Do you mind lending your girl to me for a moment?" he asked.

"Kate," Elizabeth said with a gesture.

Leaning in, Rodney whispered in Kate's ear. "Use your mouth on him."

"You," he added, talking to the man. "Keep your eyes closed."

"I have a name." His voice was a little husky and his accent told Rodney that he hadn't always been as poor as he was now. It was a rather pleasant voice, but Rodney was far from pleased.

"I'm sorry, did I tell you to speak?"

Kate was on her knees, her hands resting on the man's thighs as she bent her head to take his cock into her mouth. The man jerked a little but opened his mouth again. "It's John."

Without hesitating, Rodney reached out and slapped him hard. John caught his breath, but Kate's reaction was far more interesting to Rodney; she made a small choking noise and pulled back just a little. She corrected herself almost immediately, but Rodney reached down to rest a gentle hand on her shoulder. "That's enough, girl."

Sure enough, when Kate sat back on her heels, John was hard, impressively so. Rodney crossed his arms and stared at him for a long moment.

"What do you want for him?" he finally asked.

"Not much," Elizabeth said. "Perhaps a percentage of his first month's take?"

"Twenty percent," Teyla added. Before Rodney could answer, she smiled at him. "You're going to start at ten, so why don't we just settle on fifteen."

"Fine," Rodney said with a shrug. "Not like I'll get all that much for him."

"Excuse me, do I get a say in this?" John's eyes were open and he was scowling. In spite of his expression, he was still a handsome man, and Rodney decided right then and there to train John himself. In fact, he should probably start now.

Moving right in front of him, Rodney reached up and grabbed the simple collar around John's neck. "This," he said, slapping John's face, "is for opening your eyes before I said you could." He backhanded the other side of John's face. "That's for speaking without leave."

John gave him a narrowed-eyed look, but when Rodney raised his hand again, he closed his eyes.

"At least he's not entirely stupid," Rodney muttered before turning back to Elizabeth and Teyla. "Thank you for thinking of me; I just might be able to do something with him."

"I am glad to hear it," Teyla said. "It was good to see you, Rodney."

"And you," Rodney replied, stepping forward to kiss her hand. "Both of you." He repeated the gesture over Elizabeth's hand and then turned to John. "You can open your eyes again. Follow me."

"Um...Sir?" John said as they walked down the hall toward the front door. "My clothes are...."

"Not relevant to this situation," Rodney said. Although he heard John's footsteps slow, Rodney kept walking. "There are far worse punishments than the back of my hand," he said almost conversationally as he reached the door.

John was right behind him as Teyla and Elizabeth's man saw them out. "See," Rodney said, moving the few steps from the door to his coach. "There's no one to see you and nothing to get upset about." Although why he was reassuring a new boy, he didn't know.

His coachman was waiting and wasn't at all bothered at John's presence; he just helped Rodney into the coach and left John on his own. Rodney got himself settled as John scrambled in and closed the door behind himself.

"No," Rodney said shortly as John headed for the set opposite him. "You're to kneel on the floor."

John obeyed but he looked both annoyed and confused and Rodney sighed. "I'll explain things when we reach Pegasus House."

It was only a short drive and Rodney did his best to hide his relief when the coach stopped. He really preferred not to go out if he could avoid it, and while Teyla and Elizabeth were friends, he would still rather be at home.

Campbell met him at the door, bowing slightly to Rodney before glancing at John.

"Set aside a room for him; a single."

"Yes, sir."

"Now, is there anything I need to know about?"

"No, sir. Will you have tea?"

"Good God, no. I had tea at Teyla's. Send some brandy, a plate of sandwiches and a training collar to the study. You, boy, follow me." Without waiting for an answer, Rodney headed toward his study, already feeling a little better now that he was home.

"Kneel down and be quiet," he said, once they'd reached his study. Rodney pulled off his suit jacket, unbuttoned his waistcoat and loosened his cravat before settling into his favorite seat--a big comfortable wingback chair upholstered in dull bronze velvet. There was already a fire going in the grate, and, after a moment, one of the House boys brought in his food and a snifter of Rodney's favorite French brandy. There was a leather and brass training collar coiled up on the tray with the sandwiches.

John watched the boy, his eyes a little wide as he took in the leather pants and snug leather shirt with their brass details. He glanced at Rodney, and his skepticism was easy to see. Rodney took a long sip of brandy and leaned back, closing his eyes and relaxing for just a moment.

 _I must be a little more bored than I'd realized._

"Your posture is bad," he said, finally opening his eyes.

"Is it?"

Rodney wasn't all that surprised when John didn't straighten up. "Yes; we'll work on that."

"Are you going to put a book on my head the way they do with little girls?"

Rodney took a long sip of his brandy and then put the glass down. "Stand up and come over here."

John lifted his chin and Rodney was sure this would be the first of what would undoubtedly be many rebellious moments, but no, John stood up and walked over to stand in front of Rodney. Rodney snapped and pointed at the floor in front of his feet, and John's eyes narrowed, but he went down.

 _Interesting,_ Rodney thought. _He knows how to pick his battles._

"Do you understand that I now hold your debt contract?" he asked. John nodded shortly. "Do you also understand that, legally, you are not a slave? While you work off the contract, you will receive a small stipend and you'll have a half day every week. You will also be fed, housed and clothed, which will not be charged to your debt."

"Generous of you," John murmured.

"Yes, it is, considering what would happen to you if a factory owner had purchased your contract."

"You treat me like livestock and I'm supposed to be grateful?"

Chuckling at the sudden image of John in full pony gear, Rodney shook his head. "Oh, you haven't been treated like livestock yet, trust me."

John seemed taken aback but he recovered quickly. "Why don't you just tell me what's expected of me."

"You seem to be reasonably intelligent; you tell me."

"I'm to be a whore."

Rodney thought about correcting him, but then he paused. "That's putting it a little more bluntly than I'd like, but yes, that's essentially it." He waited a moment and then, just as John opened his mouth to speak, continued. "If you don't want to do it, you can go back to debtor's prison and take your chances there."

"Um." John took a deep breath. "In spite of earlier, with that girl...I really don't like...being with women."

"Our clients are almost all men. Occasionally we'll entertain a woman, but believe me, when we do, they want most of the same services our male clients do."

"And those services are what? The usual?"

"I'm curious," Rodney said. "What do you consider to be 'usual'?"

John ducked his head and Rodney was unexpectedly charmed. Although he wasn't terribly banged up, John had a few scars and he was probably in his late 30s at least, not to mention the fact that Rodney had seen him naked and aroused. _And yet, ask him about sex and he's all but blushing._

"Using my mouth or my hands...buggering someone or...um, letting them bugger me."

"Thank God you're not a total virgin," Rodney said with relief. Breaking in virgins was such a bother; he usually let Ronon deal with them. "However, to answer your question, your usual is far too basic for this House. Men don't spend large amounts of money for nothing more than a hot mouth on their cocks."

"I don't know about that. My...I know someone who spent quite large sums on whores."

"Well, the more foolish among the wealthy will throw their money away simply because they can, but when they come here, they want something a little more complicated." Rodney leaned forward and looked at John. "Back there, at Teyla and Elizabeth's...what happened when I first slapped you?"

John kept his gaze on the carpet and said nothing.

"At a guess, you were already aroused because the extremely well trained Kate had you in her mouth. And when I slapped you, the pain made it better." Rodney paused but John remained silent. Reaching out, Rodney knotted his hand in John's hair again and pulled his head up.

"How often do you actually bugger someone, John? Your usual involves going down on your knees and opening your mouth, or bending over and spreading your legs, and you don't mind at all if they get a bit rough with it." He gripped John's chin with his other hand. "In fact, you've always liked it when they're rough, haven't you?"

He felt the strain as John tried to pull away. "Are you really trying to get away from me?" Rodney asked, leaning in even closer. "Or just trying to make it hurt more?"

John's tongue slid across his lips and then his mouth opened and for a moment, Rodney almost forgot himself and took what John was offering. Blinking, he pushed John away, letting go of his hair and chin and leaving John half sprawled on the floor.

"I thought as much," Rodney said, glancing pointedly at John's erection while doing his best to ignore his own.

Muttering something in what sounded a little like Arabic, John looked away.

"You know," Rodney said, keeping his voice deliberately light. "You'd be hauling coal and making fires over at Atlantis House if it weren't for your proclivities. Teyla and Elizabeth treat their help well enough, but you wouldn't make what you'll make here." When John remained silent, Rodney sighed in frustration.

"I'm trying to tell you that I want you here in my House, working for me to please my extremely particular clients, _because_ you like the things you do. In fact, I'm willing to train you myself, which, if you'll pardon my egotism, does mean something."

"Because I like a good hard shag?"

"Your attempts to sound crass would work a lot better if it weren't clear that you're an educated man."

To Rodney's surprise, John actually shook his head and chuckled. "I've heard that one before."

"Which branch of the military were you in?"

"How did you...."

"I know a bullet scar when I see one," Rodney said. He leaned forward and traced the scar on John's ribs with his finger. "You were lucky in...where? Afghanistan? Egypt?"

"Why do you care? Yes, I like it rough, all right? Yes, I'll whore for you. Isn't that all that matters?"

Rodney kept his finger resting on John's ribs for a moment. "No, it's not, but for now I only have one question you have to answer--are you a deserter?"

John's head snapped up and he glared at Rodney. "No!"

"Very well." Rodney sat back and looked down at John for a moment. "Kneel up a little straighter," he finally said, picking up the training collar. Bending down he locked it around John's neck. It was wide, two inches of thick leather, and Rodney could see it biting into the underside of John's chin as John twisted his neck.

"I thought you said I wasn't a slave."

"Did I say that?"

"Then why this?" John asked, reaching up and tugging at the collar.

"Because, while legally, you're a free man who can walk away from all of this, the House fiction--the one that our clients pay large sums for--is that you're a slave."

John's lips tightened and he looked away.

"There's one thing more and then I'll let you get some food and rest." Rodney frowned and snapped his fingers. "John, look up."

When John looked up, Rodney wanted to laugh. Even if John's scars hadn't marked him as a former soldier, the way John looked past Rodney, his eyes focused on the wall behind Rodney's chair, would have made it plain.

"Earlier I said there were worse punishments than the back of my hand." Rodney reached into a pocket and pulled out his controller. After entering the number on John's collar, Rodney pressed one of the ivory keys. John gasped and lifted a hand to the collar. "That's the low setting," Rodney explained. "Just a small shock through the strip of metal on inside the collar."

"Clever," was all John said.

"Thank you," Rodney replied. "One of my lesser inventions." He reached over and touched a button on the table and a moment later, the door opened.

"Sir?" The same boy who had brought Rodney's meal stood in the doorway.

"Eric, this is John. See that he's fed and taken to the room Campbell made up for him."

"Yes, sir."

John rose to his feet and looked at Rodney for a long moment before heading toward the door. Rodney smiled as he turned to his food. _I'm going to enjoy training him._

* * *

Rodney had been at his desk for several hours before the door to the study opened again. "You planning on staying up all night?"

"If I feel like it, Mother."

"Ha ha." Ronon came in, settled down in one of the chairs near the fireplace, and stretched his legs out. "Elizabeth sent the paperwork on that new boy over in the evening post."

"Oh?" Rodney turned his chair until he could see Ronon. "Did you take a look at him?"

"He's a little old for it."

"True, but he's got good instincts and I like a challenge now and then."

"You're going to train him yourself?" Ronon smiled. "He doesn't seem to be your type."

"You didn't see his reaction when I slapped him. Trust me; I'll make something of him." Rodney took a sip of brandy. "So, anything interesting in his paperwork?"

"Did you know he was in the Imperial Air Corps?"

"Really? I knew he was military, but that's all. Was he crew on one of the airships?"

"Pilot."

"He was an officer? Interesting, but not entirely surprising. You know what they say about men in positions of responsibility. Present company excepted, of course."

"Of course," Ronon said with a slight smile. "Well, if you need any help with him...."

"Oh, please, the day I need help training a new boy is the day you can put me in my winding sheet."

* * *

"So," Rodney said as John was led into his study early the next afternoon. "I hear you shared rather strong opinions with some of the staff this morning."

John scowled and crossed his arms across his chest. "There's thorough and then there's what your people did to me."

"First things first," Rodney said, standing up. "When you come into this room, or any room I'm in, you kneel."

Still scowling, John knelt. Rodney shook his head. "Stand up and do it again. No, no, no...again. The transition needs to be smooth, not a strain." He watched as John did it again and again and then one more time.

"Better, but you'll need to practice more. Stay down this time."

Rodney walked around John, shaking his head. John looked good; his face had been shaved closely and although it was still tousled, his hair looked better than it had yesterday. After thinking about it, Rodney had decided not to have him completely shaved--too much work, and even hairless John would never appeal to clients who wanted a boy instead of a man--but someone had clearly taken a pair of scissors to his pubic hair, giving him a much needed trim. He was still a little too thin, but a couple of weeks eating decent food would take care of that.

"The real problem is your posture." Rodney leaned down and put a hand in the middle of John's back.

"The real problem," John said, "is having someone put what felt like a whole _barrel_ of water up my...."

"Don't be childish," Rodney said. "I have--and therefore, this House has--high standards of cleanliness."

"Do you have that done to yourself every morning?"

As much as he didn't want to encourage John, Rodney couldn't keep a snort of laughter from escaping. "Point to you," he said. "No, I don't. But then, no one fucks me."

"Not even that very large, very good looking man in the nice suit I passed in the hall last night?" The expression on John's face made it clear that Ronon had made an impression on him and, for a moment, Rodney felt an odd pang of jealousy.

"Ronon?" Rodney snorted again. "Mr. Dex is my financial partner--he made his fortune in California--and the House's chief trainer. He doesn't go down on his knees for anyone, and he's most certainly _not_ my lover." Rodney shook his head. "Stop trying to distract me and get to your feet."

John's movement up from his knees was somewhat smoother than it had been earlier, and Rodney hid a smile. While he hadn't doubted his ability to train John, it was nice to see that John was actually going to make an effort.

"Getting back to your posture...I have just the thing." Rodney summoned the boy on duty, gave him quiet instructions and then turned back to John. "When was the last time you were fucked?"

Although John was clearly attempting to look nonchalant, Rodney saw that same faint blush stain his cheeks he'd seen the the night before. _God, I hope he doesn't lose that little touch of embarrassment._

"A few weeks ago?" John shrugged. "Being in prison...it's hard to keep track of time."

"I would imagine." Before Rodney could say more, the boy returned, gave Rodney what he'd asked for and left.

"It won't be a perfect fit, of course," Rodney said. "But we've take your measurements and...."

"No." John said, flatly. "I'm not wearing that."

"Of course you are. There are three ways for this to happen. You do as you're told. I shock you once or twice with the collar controller and you do as you're told. Or I call for a couple of my larger attendants and they hold you down while I put it on you.

"John, you don't seem to understand--the _only_ choice you have left to you is to obey or to leave. If you are going to stay, then you will obey every order I give you." Rodney frowned. "Is that clear enough, or do I somehow need to put it in even simpler terms?"

"It's clear," John said, staring over Rodney's shoulder at the wall.

"Good." Rodney stepped up to him. "Raise your arms out of the way...yes, it needs to be dropped over your head...right, like that. Now hold it on while I...good."

Rodney went silent as he laced the corset onto John. He wasn't trying to make John look feminine or even give him a narrower waist, so he laced it snugly all the way from the top to bottom.

"Can you breathe easily?" he asked. John took a deep breath and nodded, and Rodney smiled as he pulled the laces tighter and then even tighter. Once he'd tied the laces, he moved around front and buckled the straps into place.

Stepping back, he looked John over. The corset forced John to stand up straight and the black leather looked good against his pale skin. And wasn't that interesting--John wasn't fully hard but his cock had filled out some. Rodney smirked a little.

Reaching into his pocket, Rodney pulled out a leash and clipped it to the brass ring on the front of the corset. "Don't grit your teeth like that," he said. "It's bad for them, and the last thing you need right now is a sore jaw."

John let out a relieved sounding sigh once Rodney led him over to the full length mirror in the corner of the study. "There, see? You don't look like a woman at all. It's not even a woman's corset and, at the risk of stroking any ego you might have, it looks quite good on you."

He let John look for a brief moment and then reached up and pressed on his shoulder. John went down to his knees and Rodney nodded. "Much better, but no. Stand up again and turn to face me.

"I'll teach you what to do with your eyes--when to look at the client and when not to--later. For now, look at me."

Rodney met John's gaze easily. "If you pay attention to me and learn from me and let me train you, you will not only pay off your debts and earn good money, but you will be able to have some of the things you've always wanted and never quite found.

"You'll find out what it's like to be fucked after you've been whipped, or to be put on your knees with your hands cuffed to your ankles so that you have no choice but to take it when a man slowly pushes his cock into your mouth. You'll be put over men's knees for a thrashing or shoved over tables for a quick rough shag or made to beg for hours before you're allowed to come."

John's breath was quicker now and he was blushing again. He blinked, obviously working to keep his eyes on Rodney's face and Rodney knew without even looking that he was hard.

"Now," Rodney said as he put his hand on John's shoulder again. "Down."

John knelt like he'd been doing it all his life. "Very good, John," Rodney said softly, resting his hand on the side of John's face. "Very good."

After a moment of stillness, John turned his head slightly and mouthed at Rodney's thumb. Curious, Rodney pushed it into John's mouth and John immediately sucked on it, his tongue teasing at Rodney's knuckle.

"Let me," John mumbled, his words muffled by Rodney's thumb. "Let me suck you...show you how good I am at it."

It was surprisingly difficult for Rodney to pull back. "Not yet," he said, his voice a little hoarse. "It's...not yet."

It was odd, but Rodney just couldn't bring himself to explain to John that he never had sex with his trainees; it was all too easy to forget that he was doing a job, too easy for both parties to get emotionally involved.

He stood there for a time, letting John suck and lick at his thumb. "If you can do that with something larger," he finally said as he pulled his hand away from John's face, "then yes, you are very good at it."

John looked up at him, his eyes dark, and licked his lips. "Oh, very good," Rodney said. "They're going to love that look."

"I hope so," John said with a slight smile. "Is it too much to look up through my eyelashes?"

Rodney laughed, just a little, relieved that the moment seemed to be over. "Yes. You are, if you'll excuse my pointing it out, a little too old for that trick. Eagerness looks much better on you; try to look needy."

"Why do I think that won't be all that difficult?"

"Because you're not a fool." Rodney stepped back. "All right, up on your feet. We've covered kneeling and we're working on your posture; now it's time to see how much pain you can take."

"A fair amount, or so the surgeons told me," John said as he stood up.

"Really? There's pain requiring a surgeon and then there's what we do here." He tugged on the leash, pulling John toward the desk and John blinked, as if he'd forgotten it was there. "We do _not_ allow the two to mix."

"And if some customer gets over-eager?"

"We have ways of dealing with that; I'll explain it later in your training." Rodney unclipped the leash and patted the clean surface of his desk. "For now, bend over the desk."

"I'm not sure I can in this...thing."

"John?" Rodney's voice was mild, but John bit his lip, obviously aware that he'd done something wrong. "When I give you an order, you _do_ it." Moving behind John, he planted a hand on the middle of John's back and pushed. "Bend at the hips...see?"

"Sorry," John murmured.

Although Rodney couldn't see it, he was pretty sure John was blushing again. He gave John's bare ass a pat and then reached into the desk drawer and pulled out the set of wrist cuffs that had been brought to him after John's measurements had been taken. "Hands behind your back," he said and then cuffed John's wrists. He then linked the cuffs together and clipped them to one of the rings on the back of the corset.

"Were you caned in school?"

"No." John sounded a little nervous. "The brothers used rulers on our palms. And my nanny used a switch."

"Hmmm...I'll start with a strap, then," Rodney said, pulling one out of his desk drawer.

"Here's how this works," he continued with another pat to John's ass. John squirmed a little and Rodney swallowed hard. "Uh, yes....as I was saying. I'm going to give you five blows and you're going to rate them on a level of one to ten, with ten being unbearable pain."

Before John could distract him with more squirming, Rodney moved to one side and brought the strap down briskly. He landed five quick blows at a strength that most of the House boys would consider a five.

"Well?"

"I...um...maybe a three?" John's wrists twisted a little in the cuffs.

"Did you like it?"

"Yes," John said, his voice low.

"Good."

"Five," John said after the next five blows. His voice was rough and his breathing was rapid and harsh.

"Still like it?"

"God, yes...are you going to do more?"

Rodney paused and rested his hand on John's bound wrists. "Do you want me to? Because I might if you ask nicely."

"Yes," John said, panting as hard as he could considering how constricted he was by the corset. "Please?" He was moving much more purposefully against the desk now and Rodney reached out and pressed down on his bound wrists.

"Be still and you'll get five more," Rodney said, keeping his hand on John's wrists. He brought the strap down _hard_ on John's ass, not holding back at all.

John shouted and writhed under the strap, but he didn't try to pull away. Breathing almost as hard as John was, Rodney brought the strap down again and then, after a wait, a third time. "Does it hurt?" he demanded, his voice rough. "Tell me!"

"God, yes," John groaned. "Seven...I don't know...eight? More, please, please...more!"

As blows four and five landed on John's reddened ass, the snap of the strap seemed to echo in Rodney's ears, and when John lifted his hips up, straining against Rodney's hand to get more, Rodney forgot about the count. He brought the strap down as hard as he could, and when John cried out, Rodney hit him again.

Some of Rodney's clients wanted boys who cried and tried to get away, boys who pretended that they didn't want to be hurt, and while Rodney was happy to cater to them, he didn't really understand it. This, someone taking it and begging for more, was what Rodney wanted, what he _needed_.

John's ass was starting to welt up now, and when Rodney landed a particularly hard blow on one of the welts, John let out a harsh scream, his wrists twisting in the cuffs. "God," he gasped out. "I...I'm...going to...."

"Do it," Rodney growled, bringing the strap down hard and fast. "Go on, boy...do it now."

He got two more blows in and then John groaned low and long, his hips bucking up as he came all over Rodney's desk. "God," Rodney murmured, hitting John one more time. "Good boy...good boy."

Although he desperately wanted to take John then and there, Rodney forced himself to step back. Pressing his hand against his erection, he fought to bring himself under control. It only took a moment, and then he was able to step back up to the desk.

"John," he said, resting a hand on John's back above the line of the corset. "That was very good."

"I...." John drew a shaky breath. "I've never...not like that."

"Believe me, it will make you very popular with the clients." Rodney paused and then backed away. "Can you stand?"

"Yes, I think," John said. "but I'm a bit of a mess."

Rodney unhooked the cuffs, but left them on John's wrists. "There are clean cloths in the bottom drawer of the desk. Clean yourself and the desk as soon as you can."

While John slowly got himself and the desk in order, Rodney touched the bell and then settled into the big wingback chair.

"Sandwiches and water," he said when Eric appeared at the door. "Enough for two."

"Yes, sir."

"John," Rodney said. "Down here." Pulling a small pillow out from behind his back, Rodney tossed it onto the floor in front of his chair. "You can sit if you like."

John went to his knees beautifully, but then grimaced as he tried to sit down. "You have a strong arm," he said and then paused. "Am I supposed to call you sir?"

"Yes," Rodney said. "Some of our clients will prefer 'master,' and some of them will not want you to speak at all. You'll learn how to ask at the beginning of a session."

John nodded and was opening his mouth to ask something more, but the door opened. "Stay there," Rodney told Eric. "John, get up and bring the tray in."

John frowned, but rose carefully to his feet.

"It's not enough," Rodney said as John put the tray on the small table next to Rodney's chair, "to be able to take pain or kneel well. You'll be expected to serve, regardless of how much you're hurting."

"Am I a whore, a punching bag or a waiter?"

"All three," Rodney said. "And you're supposed to do it without talking back. I'll allow you to ask questions for now, but eventually, you'll be punished for a bad attitude." He pointed at the floor and, after John settled down, Rodney handed him a glass of water.

"Thank you, sir," John murmured before taking a drink.

"Good boy," Rodney said. "Manners matter to many of our clients." Leaning back in his chair, he took a sip of wine and thought about who John's first client should be. Lord Caldwell? Dr. Jackson? Maybe the General, although he wasn't sure he'd want to turn John over to a military man right away.

With a frown and a slight gesture, Rodney dismissed the thought. He had plenty of time before he had to turn John over to anyone.

"Are you hungry?" he asked. When John nodded, Rodney handed down a sandwich.

John thanked him again and Rodney pondered his next move as they ate. _Positions and more work testing his ability to take pain,_ he thought. _He needs to be further along before I put him in the machine._

* * *

A few days later, Rodney was beginning to wonder if he'd make it through John's training without fucking him. It didn't help that John seemed to regard Rodney's work ethic as something he could overcome if he just tried hard enough. Beyond that, the problem was, while John still had some trouble with the service aspect of his training, he simply took everything else Rodney threw at him and, as far as Rodney could tell--and he _was_ an expert--loved it.

He'd had them leave the corset off John this morning and John smiled at him as he knelt down in front of Rodney's desk. "Does this mean I'm done with that corset, sir?"

Rodney walked around him, his arms crossed and shook his head. "Not if you're going to slouch every time you're not wearing it." Before John could say anything more, Rodney held up a hand. "Enough. Stand up."

As he stood, Rodney pulled a handful of metal out of his pocket. "Why so much brass? It's all over the House," John asked as Rodney untangled the brass chain.

"It's stronger than either gold or silver," Rodney said, "and I like the way it looks with black. Although, to be honest, I get tired of black sometimes. It's so cliche."

John's soft huff of laughter died when Rodney held up one end of the chain. "Is that...?" he began, his hands twitching a little as if he wanted to bring them up to cover his chest.

"Hands behind your back," Rodney snapped, pleased but not surprised when John obeyed instantly; John tended to be much more obedient when he thought Rodney was going to hurt him.

"Good." Rodney reached up and pressed his thumb against one of John's nipples. John caught his breath and Rodney smiled at him as John's nipple hardened under Rodney's touch. "Of course they're sensitive," Rodney muttered to himself. Was there anything about John that wasn't perfect?

"Ow!" John blurted out when Rodney attached the first clamp.

"Does it really hurt, or was it the surprise?" Rodney asked as he teased John's other nipple.

"Partly the surprise, but...." John trailed off with a gasp as Rodney set the second clamp. "God...it does hurt."

Rodney tugged at the chain and John caught his breath. "It hurts and you like it?"

"You know I do." John bit his lip and closed his eyes. "It's...really good."

"God," Rodney murmured. "You said you weren't caned as a boy," he continued in a much brisker tone. "Bend over and grab your legs, just below the knee."

John hissed a little as he bent over and Rodney smiled as he pulled a cane off the rack of implements. "There is a whole protocol that goes with being caned. Clients who like to use the cane will expect you to know how to take it."

He tapped the cane lightly on John's ass. "Cane strokes are usually given in half dozen or dozen sets. After each stroke, you are to tell me which stroke it was, thank me and ask for another. To be more specific, you say: 'One, sir. Thank you, sir. May I please have another?' Or you can say, 'please, may I have another,' if you prefer."

"You're joking."

"About this? No. You need to understand, there's more to what we do here than simple thrashing and sex. For some of our clients, an air of ritual adds to their enjoyment." He tapped John's ass again. "Now, I'll begin with a half dozen."

Bearing in mind that this was John, who had quite the tolerance for pain, Rodney's first blow was hard enough to leave a solid stripe across John's ass.

"God!" John blurted and though Rodney waited, that was all he said.

"Did I mention that if you don't count and ask for more, I'll start over?" Rodney landed another blow on top of the same stripe.

"One, sir," John gasped. "Thank you, sir. May I have another?"

Smiling because he really did like how quickly John picked things up, Rodney landed another blow, harder this time. John moaned but counted in a decent amount of time. He managed easily enough through four, but when Rodney landed the fifth blow, John's voice was shaky and he stumbled over the line.

"Five again," Rodney said, and he was sure John would rebel or break down and beg, but John took a hash gasping breath and said, "Five, sir. Thank you, sir. May I have another?"

John cried out at six, but he still got the words out sooner that Rodney expected.

"Down," Rodney said, reaching down to help John to the floor. "Take your time lifting your head; passing out isn't attractive."

"I'm not going to pass out, sir," John panted, and sure enough, while he wobbled a little as he knelt up he was soon steady.

Rodney turned away, putting the cane away slowly and fussing with the rack a little before he looked at John again. John stared up at him; he was flushed and breathless and hard, his cock tight against his belly. Rodney wanted him so much it hurt.

"It's tea time," was all he said. "Go fetch it for both of us."

"Um...sir," John began, looking down at the clamps still on his nipples.

"You need to get used to them," Rodney said, frowning. "Now, I believe I gave you an order."

The moment the door closed behind John, Rodney collapsed into the big armchair and unbuttoned his trousers. He was already close and as he roughly stroked his cock, he thought of John's face and his voice as he'd counted blows....

Rodney came with a low groan. As he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket to tidy up, he wondered if he was going to make it through the rest of the day, let alone the rest of John's training.

* * *

"Present," Rodney snapped a week later. John bent down, resting his head on his crossed arms. Rodney gave him a hard tap on the ass with his cane. "Up. Do it again, knees wider."

"Yes, Sir," John said tightly. His posture was excellent as he went down, but Rodney hit him with the cane, a real stripe that made John grunt.

"Attitude."

"Yes, Sir," John said, his voice sweet and charming. "Thank you, Sir."

Rodney reached into his pocket and pushed the ivory button on the controller. He heard John's breath catch in his throat. "Did I just hear sarcasm?" When John didn't answer, Rodney pressed the button again, holding it down a little longer this time.

"Goddamnit!" John roared, springing to his feet. "I've fucking had enough of you and your goddamn collar and your cane and this whole situation!"

 _Finally,_ Rodney thought, standing back to let John pace.

"I'm sick to death of enemas and positions and this damned corset and......and I haven't spent this much time on my knees being _bored_ to death since I stopped going to church!"

"Very well," Rodney said, setting the cane and the controller on his desk. He stepped up to John and undid the front buckles of the corset before moving behind him to unlace it.

"What...?"

After removing the corset, Rodney bought out his heavy bunch of keys and unlocked John's training collar. "Over there," he said, pointing to a set of bookshelves in a corner of the study, "is a set of street clothes and thirty shillings. Once you're dressed, I'll summon Campbell to see you out."

Turning his back to John, Rodney made his way around the desk and sat down, taking up an account book at random. He opened it up and started staring at the numbers, waiting. Everything was quiet for a long moment and then Rodney heard the rustle of fabric and the soft clink of coins.

He blinked, suddenly wondering if John was calling his bluff. Only it wasn't a bluff, was it? He'd always said John could leave--anyone who worked for Rodney could leave at any time they liked--but now he realized something a little disturbing.

He didn't want John to go.

The room was suddenly silent; Rodney couldn't hear John dressing or moving and finally, the suspense was too much.

When Rodney looked up, John was in the middle of the room, naked and on his knees with his arms crossed on the floor in front of hum. His forehead rested on his arms and without the corset, his back dipped just a little, accentuating his ass. His knees were spread just right; all in all, it was a textbook perfect example of the position they'd been working on.

"So," Rodney said, picking up the cane and moving to stand right in front of John. "Am I to understand that you're bored?"

"I'm sorry, sir," John replied, and if he was being sarcastic, Rodney certainly couldn't tell.

"Well done," Rodney said. "A perfect answer, if I were a client. Kneel up."

John obeyed, and Rodney noticed that, even without the corset, his posture was quite good. Rodney crouched down and then sat on the floor in front of John. It felt strange; he rarely came down to a boy's level like this.

"Go ahead and sit," he said. "And tell me what's on your mind."

"I understand what you're doing here and I know that I need to learn how to kneel and serve and present myself and all that, but...." John looked down at the floor. "I like it better when you were beating me. I'd like it even more if you'd just fuck me."

"Because it's easier?" Rodney asked. He had to hide a smile when John looked annoyed. "After all, when someone's beating you or buggering you, all you have to do is lie there and take it. Service and learning how to serve, that's a good deal more difficult."

"How would you know?"

Rodney couldn't help it; he laughed. "How do you think I learned all this? Believe me, it was a great deal more difficult for me than it has been for you. I don't really like pain and I'm not submissive by nature."

"You...you went through this?"

"Yes," Rodney said with a rueful smile. "And I _hated_ it."

"I can see that." John sighed. "So you actually think I'm submissive by nature?"

Rodney held up a hand. "Yes, but only when it comes to sex. Submissive, but impatient."

John gave him a shrewd look. "You've been waiting for me to blow, haven't you? That's why you've pushed me so hard the last couple of days."

"You know, the fact that you're as intelligent as you are makes it both easier and harder to train you."

"Thank you. I think."

"I meant it as a compliment. The thing you need to do is put that intelligence to good use." Rodney leaned forward and reached around to put a hand on the back of John's neck. "When I tell you to present, for example, you need to think about why you're doing it."

"I know why I'm doing it."

"But you're not thinking about that while you do it." Rodney pressed lightly on the back of John's neck. "Go down, John. Head to the ground, ass in the air."

Ignoring the fact that John's transition into the position wasn't all that graceful, Rodney waited, keeping his hand on John's neck. "If I were the client and I told you to present, what do you think I'd have in mind?"

"Hopefully you'd want to bugger me." John murmured.

Rodney patted his neck and stood up and walked around to stand behind John. "What if I wanted to whip you first? Or maybe use a strap on you?"

"That," John said, his voice a little huskier now. "Please do that, Sir?"

"Or maybe I'd want to beat you and then bugger you," Rodney said, reaching out with his foot to carefully run the polished toe of his shoe up the inside of John's thigh. John shivered.

"Whatever you want, Sir. Please?"

"Better answer," Rodney said. "Remember that, as much as you want it, the client is here for himself. They're a selfish lot, really." He stepped back. "Now, say you're gagged, or the client has told you to be silent. Convince me...make me think taking you is the best idea I've ever had."

John went still, clearly thinking it over. Then he shifted, just a little, sliding his knees a little further apart and arching his back more. "Good," Rodney said. "Of course, there's another thing you can do...."

He heard a swift intake of breath, as if John were going to say something, but then, John went down on one shoulder and reached back to grasp his ass cheeks and hold himself open. Rodney swallowed hard. All he wanted to do right now was give John what John so clearly needed; God, he even had a vial of oil in his waistcoat pocket.

"Good," he said, his voice tight in his throat. "Very good."

"Please...God, please. If I've done well...." John sounded desperate and Rodney tried to remind himself that John really did have what Teyla had called an aptitude; he was good at this, but what he wanted right now, any man could give him.

"Kneel up," Rodney said, pleased at how detached he sounded.

John's hands fell away from his ass, but he remained down in position for a moment. Then, with a sigh, he knelt up.

"I know you've been good, and not touched yourself," Rodney said, looking pointedly at John's erection. "As a reward, you have permission." He smiled when John looked relieved. "As long as you do it right now."

"I...what?"

"I want to see it, and trust me, you'll find that many of your clients will want to watch you."

John bit his lip and lowered his eyes before reaching down into his lap.

"Remember that you're doing this for someone other than yourself," Rodney added. "Make it look good, make it last and ask--no, beg to be allowed to finish."

"God," John moaned. He wrapped his hand around his cock and began stroking it. "I don't know if I can...so close."

"Hold it off," Rodney snapped. "Think about whatever it is you think about when you're trying not to come. Her Imperial Majesty without clothes usually does it for me."

He wasn't surprised when John snorted with laughter. "That's...treasonous, isn't it?"

"No. Now thinking about her and her Scotsman might be, but...."

"Stop making me laugh...damn you."

"Mind your tone," Rodney snapped and John groaned and slowed down.

 _Interesting._

"Good," Rodney said. "That's good, John...let me see how much you want it. Let me see how much you can't help yourself."

"Please," John gasped out, his hand slowing even more. "Please sir...please let me...."

"Let you what, boy?"

"Let me finish...please please...I want...want to come for you."

"Do it," Rodney said. "Now!" He stared eagerly as John cried out and came, his head thrown back and his eyes closed. Watching that was hard enough, but when John opened his eyes, smiled a slow lazy smile, brought a hand up to his mouth and started licking, Rodney had to fight to breathe properly.

"I'd like it better," John said, still breathless, "if this were your cock."

At that, Rodney had to close his eyes and turn away. "I told you," he began.

"Yes, sir. I know," John said, and the disappointment in his voice was even harder to deal with than the hand licking.

"Go wash up," Rodney said roughly, "and bring me some lunch. And before you complain, I'm not punishing you by refusing to feed you. I have my reasons, trust me."

"I do," John said very quietly.

Once the door closed behind him, Rodney buried his face in his hands. He had no idea, he realized, if he wanted to proceed with the last of John's training because he felt like John would be an asset to the House or just because he really really wanted to see John on the machine.

* * *

John sat at Rodney's feet while Rodney ate his lunch.

"Now do you understand what I meant about using your intelligence?" Rodney said through a mouthful of lamp cutlet. "Even when you're desperate and aching to come, you need to be aware of what's going on around you."

"It's more like acting than anything else, isn't it?"

"Some times more than others, although for the most part, we make sure you're a good match for the client. Not that all of them care if the boy they're with is enjoying himself, but your performance will be better if you like what you're doing." Rodney paused to sip his wine.

"And of course, there are clients who like roleplay, but you needn't worry; I won't be starting you with anyone who wants that sort of thing. At least not until, you've had even more training."

"What kind of clients will you start me with?"

"Sadists," Rodney said shortly. He pushed his plate away, suddenly not hungry anymore. "You have a quality about you that appeals to someone who likes delivering pain."

"Like you?"

"Yes. Although I also like submissives, but only if they're not pretending." Rodney forced himself to shrug. "I am, as you may have noticed, rather particular."

"So I've been told," John said with a slight smile.

"Yes, well, have they told you I'm an inventor as well?"

"I knew about the collars, but no one's said much about anything else."

"Good, because if someone had told you about this next part of the training, there'd be hell to pay." Rodney reached into a drawer. "Stand up."

John frowned as he looked at the series of brass rings attached to a strip of black leather. "Wait, does that go over my...?"

"I didn't invent this, of course," Rodney said, fitting the largest ring over John's cock and balls. The rest of the rings fit over the shaft of John's cock, the smallest of them snug just behind the head. Rodney smiled a little and stroked the thin soft skin of John's balls until John was squirming and hard.

"It's possible to come while wearing one of those, but it's not easy."

"Yes," John said, swallowing hard. "I can see that."

"There's this as well," Rodney said, handing John the slim band of leather instead of putting it on him.

"A House collar?" John asked as he turned the collar over and inspected it, running his finger over the small brass Pegasus symbol. "There's no metal inside."

"You don't need the training collar any more," Rodney said. "I just want you wearing this one."

Rodney wasn't sure what to make of look John gave him as he dropped to his knees and held up the collar--was it smugness or regret or some combination of the two? He frowned a little and forced himself to be brisk and business-like as he buckled the collar around John's neck.

"Now," he said, attaching a leash to the loop in the front of the collar. "Come along."

He put himself between John and the big mirror in the corner while he touched the button cleverly hidden in the mirror's embellished frame.

"A secret room?" John murmured, sounding amused as the mirror swung out of the way and revealed a door. "That's impressive."

"I've been told I have a flair for the over-dramatic," Rodney replied, leading John through the door, which closed silently behind them. He touched the switches on the wall and smiled as the lights came on.

"What...." John's voice trailed off and Rodney turned in time to see John's eyes go wide as he stared at the center of the room.

"I just call it The Machine," Rodney said, feeling more than a little smug. "Although Ronon, for some reason of his own, refers to it as Edger."

"Really?" John's voice made it clear that John wasn't paying any attention to Rodney at all, but Rodney could hardly blame him.

The machine in the middle of the room was a monstrous thing of brass, steel, wood, leather, ivory and green and blue glass that gleamed dully in the room's electric lights. Even though he'd built it and knew every inch of it like the back of his hand, Rodney still found it just a little intimidating; he could only imagine what John was thinking.

"Does...does it do what I think it does?"

Rodney smiled a little as he unhooked the leash from John's collar. "Yes," he said, moving over to the large bank of controls. He touched the keys and turned the levers that started the engine and then, as the reassuring hum began, he began the sequence that would configure the bench in the middle of the machine.

"There," he said after a long moment during which the only sound in the room was the grinding of gears and the low squeak of leather on leather. "All ready for you."

Biting his lip, John glanced at Rodney and then turned his attention back to the machine. "How...where do I...oh, I see." He nodded once and Rodney suddenly remembered that John had been an airship pilot; machinery, even unusual machinery, wouldn't surprise or amaze him as much as it did the average man.

"Like this, right?" John asked, as he settled onto the bench. His knees and shins fit perfectly on the correct padded rests, but Rodney stepped in, shaking his head.

"No, your weight needs to be distributed differently...." He reached for the manual controls and cranked the wheel until the broad torso rest was at the proper angle. "There; I want most of your weight resting on your chest and belly, like that."

The bench forced John into something like the basic present position Rodney and John had spent all morning perfecting, and like that position, it left John's ass exposed and his cock unstimulated.

"Nervous?" Rodney asked, reaching into his waistcoat pocket for a vial of the really good oil.

"With all due respect, sir," John said. "Yes!"

Rodney couldn't help his chuckle. "You just have to push the boundaries, don't you?"

"Only with you," John replied, his voice serious.

"Yes, well," Rodney muttered, more to fill the silence than anything else. He moved behind John and slicked up his fingers.

John moaned as Rodney pushed a finger inside him. He was nicely snug, and Rodney wanted to give him a moment to adjust, but John pushed back hard. Rodney smacked his ass.

"Stop it."

"Thought you said it was okay to be greedy," John said. He gasped a little as Rodney pushed a second finger in hard. "More....God, more, please?"

"I said stop it," Rodney said, a little more sternly. Curious, he slapped John's ass hard this time, landing his hand on top of a cane welt. John moaned and went tighter around Rodney's fingers. Rodney responded by pouring more oil over his fingers and John's hole and, then, when John relaxed a little, he pressed another finger in.

"Oh please...." John groaned, but he didn't move. He made more noise when Rodney twisted his fingers and Rodney grit his teeth. Yes, he wanted to see the machine test John's limits, but, even more, he wanted to fuck John himself.

 _Your rules are there for a reason,_ he told himself sternly as he finally pulled his fingers out. A little clean up with his handkerchief and then he was selecting the correct arm of the machine--the one with the glass dildo of roughly average size. He oiled up the dildo and then pressed it slowly into John.

"God," John whispered. "Please, sir...."

"Good boy," Rodney replied, stroking John's back. "Just be a little more patient."

He fastened the straps around John's torso and waist, using the cuffs attached to the waist strap to lock John's wrists together at the small of his back. It only took another minute to buckle the straps just below John's knees and the ones at his ankles.

"You'll want to move, but don't," he said, crouching down to face John once he had him strapped into place. "And don't fight the straps and cuffs; the machine will move for you."

John nodded and then looked right into Rodney's eyes. "Please," he said, his tongue running over his lower lip. "Please," he repeated, leaving his mouth open just a little.

Grateful that John hadn't actually asked for what he obviously wanted, Rodney just patted his cheek before standing up. As he headed for the control panel, he pretended not to hear John's soft sigh.

The machine wasn't silent--it hummed and whirred as it warmed up--but Rodney still took a moment to appreciate it anew. There were other people out there who might be able to build something similar, but his was quiet, efficient and beautiful, a perfect blend of form and function. Then the light indicating the machine's status went from amber to green and Rodney turned the dial that controlled the speed to "2" and pressed the big ivory button.

"Oh!" John gasped as the glass dildo pressed a little further into him before pulling back. He went from surprise to a long drawn out moan as the machine pushed the dildo back into him and Rodney could see the strain along his thighs as John fought the urge to move.

"Good boy," he murmured, not sure if he wanted John to hear him or not. He walked around the machine, watching as it slowly fucked John, watching as John's hands twisted in the cuffs while the glass dildo moved in and out of him. It was good, but not as good as it was going to get.

Rodney stepped to the control panel and turned the dial to "4" and John's moans grew louder as the dildo started moving faster, the light in the room catching on the bronze metal of the arm and the sweat that was appearing across John's back.

"Better," John gasped out and Rodney couldn't help his snort of laughter. John wasn't like any boy Rodney had ever trained and watching the machine fuck him was incredible--far better than anything Rodney had seen.

"Do you want more?" he asked after another ten minutes or so. John had settled down to a steady chorus of gasps and moans, but Rodney was sure he could be louder.

"Please," John groaned. "Faster? Or bigger?"

As Rodney touched the button that stopped the machine, he couldn't help thinking of Lord Caldwell. One of Rodney's most trusted clients, His Lordship truly appreciated a boy who could take a severe beating, and then a good hard pounding, and still beg for more. He would be a perfect first client for John, Rodney told himself as he slicked up the larger, blue dildo and pushed it into position.

"Yes," John moaned. "Oh God, yes...."

Fighting down a strange surge of anger, Rodney turned the machine on, leaving the speed set at "4." John shouted and fought the straps that held him in place for a second before he went still. He was still straining though and after watching the dildo slide in and out of John and a brisk pace, Rodney moved around to the front of the machine.

"You need to relax," he said, crouching down until he and John were face to face again. He rested a hand on John's shoulder. "It won't stop and it won't get tired, John. You need to let go and just let it happen, let the machine take you."

"I...I don't know...." Rodney watched as John tried to relax only to tense up again. "It's hitting me right there and...it's good, God, so good, but...." He paused to pant and then he looked right at Rodney. "Hurt me," he gasped. "I need...."

"Shhhhh," Rodney said, gripping John's shoulder. "I know what you need."

There was a rack of implements on the wall and Rodney quickly picked a long leather strap that looked like a belt without a buckle. Wrapping it around his fist, he moved into position next to John.

He'd designed the machine to give as much access as possible to the person using it-- _or being used by it_ \--and so Rodney had plenty of room to maneuver. Raising his arm, he brought the strap down hard across the top of John's back. John cried out and Rodney did it again and then again, each blow landing a little below the stripe from the last one.

After the fifth blow, John shuddered and moaned and Rodney could see it as he gave in. "That's it," Rodney said, "let it give you what you want."

After putting the strap aside, Rodney moved around to the front of the machine, although he regretted it when he saw John's face. His eyes were closed, his mouth open and his hair clung damply to his forehead, and yes, while Rodney had guessed that John would be as beautiful being fucked as he was when he was hurting, seeing it was almost too much.

John let out a low, husky moan and then opened his eyes. "It's...it's brutal," he panted. "It's...I've wanted to be fucked...ever since I got here...but this...oh God...." His voice trailed off for a moment and then he continued. "It's inhuman...I didn't even know how much...I wanted this...this _machine_ to fuck me. Thank...thank you."

Rodney had used the machine on any number of men--every boy who worked in the House had been in here at least once--and they'd all been aroused by it, had all come during the experience. But until now, no one had ever enjoyed it or wanted it or loved for the same reason Rodney loved it, _because_ it was a machine.

"I'm going to turn it up now," Rodney said, almost gently.

"Oh God, please, sir," John said. "More...please!"

After pausing to watch the blue glass shaft move in and out of John, Rodney quickly poured more oil over both the dildo and John's hole. The glass was smooth and flawless, but still, Rodney wanted to make sure it did no lasting damage.

He stood at the control panel, took a deep breath and turned the dial up to "5". The machine hummed louder now, but Rodney could still hear John's noises over it. For just a moment, he thought about touching himself, but no, he couldn't. He had a responsibility here, one he couldn't perform if he was too busy taking care of himself. John might be too far gone to know or care, but Rodney wasn't.

 _Later,_ he told himself, as he settled in front of John again. _I'll deal with it later._

Reaching up, he slid his fingers into John's damp hair. "It'll keep going," he said, tugging hard as John moaned. "You don't have to do anything but feel it. You don't have to pretend you don't want it and it's not going to judge you, you understand?"

"Yes," John breathed. "But you...."

"I _want_ you to like it. I made it to test boys...men like you; the more you take, the more you impress me." Rodney twisted his hand and John gasped at the sudden pain. "You're so good," he continued before he could help himself. "John, you're the best boy I've ever trained. Don't you understand? This is a _reward_. I want you to have it."

"Ohhhhh," John moaned and though Rodney waited, he didn't say anything more for a long time. He was hardly quiet, however, and Rodney could almost feel each moan, cry and gasp like a physical touch on his own skin.

He'd done this. He'd trained John, taught him to use his ability to take pain, turned him into just the kind of submissive Rodney preferred, and now there he was. Rodney watched as the machine he'd built fucked John and it was almost like fucking John himself; the thrill of it, the power of it, the _ownership_....

"Please," John murmured, his voice rough. Rodney blinked at him, not sure how long he'd been crouched there, reveling in John's submission to the machine. "Please...I...don't want to...not without permission...please please please. I want to be good...please!"

Coming while the machine fucked him right through it, while wearing the rings on his cock, would hurt like hell. Rodney leaned in closer, not wanting to miss a moment of it. "Yes," he said. "Do it for me, John."

John's eyes went wide and then closed as he let out a long cry that echoed around the room. Another cry and then a third, softer now and ragged, and finally, he was quiet, although he was still shuddering as the machine continued to fuck him.

Sliding his fingers out of John's hair, Rodney rested his palm against John's face and, before he could think about it, before he could talk himself out of it, he leaned in and kissed John, just once. And then he was pulling away, scrambling to his feet and reaching for the control panel.

With a sigh, the machine stopped. Rodney clung to the panel for a long moment, and then took a deep breath. John would need care now; Rodney's crisis could wait.

* * *

Ronon didn't ask why Rodney wanted him to present John to his first client. "Make sure Caldwell knows who trained him," Rodney had said, and Ronon had just shook his head the way he did when he thought Rodney was being stupid.

Or maybe, Rodney thought, pacing his study as the clock ticked closer and closer to ten, it had been sympathy.

The clock had reached five to ten when Rodney finally couldn't stand it any longer. Slamming the door open, he took off down the hall toward the public spaces of the House. _God, what if I'm too late, what if he's already in there with Caldwell, what if...._

"You just had to wait until the last minute, didn't you?"

Rodney whirled around and his eyes went wide.

Ronon shook his head again. "You can be such an idiot," he said, putting something--the end of a leash--in Rodney's hand. "I'll deal with Caldwell."

Still staring at John, who looked incredible in plain black leather pants, white shirt and his House collar, Rodney let Ronon go. He might have stood there all night, but then John took a step closer.

"What...?"

Without saying anything, Rodney turned on his heel and headed back toward his rooms. John paused at the study door, but Rodney tugged on the leash and kept on walking, leading him further up the hall.

Rodney's bedroom was large, and as the door closed behind them, John looked around, clearly curious. "You're not here to look at the decor, so stop it. Take your clothes off and get on your knees," Rodney said as he struggled with his suit jacket.

"What the hell?"

Rodney blinked and looked at John. "Is there some reason you're not naked?"

"Is this some last minute test? I thought I had a client."

"A test?" Rodney gestured John's question aside, not really sure why they were still talking. "Good God, no. The machine was your last test."

"Then what is this?"

"This is me...us!" Rodney's suit jacket finally came off and now he started in on his waistcoat. "I don't want you seeing clients; you'd be wasted on them."

"I thought that was what this was all about." John folded his arms over his chest and stared at Rodney. "I thought I was going to be able to pay off my debt contract."

Rodney stopped, his hands still on his cravat. "Is that what you're going on about?" He frowned. "Did you suddenly become stupid? I paid it off when I took you on; I thought you knew that."

"That's not the point. If I don't owe it to the debt agency, then I owe it to you."

"And I'll write it off. I realize you've had other things on your mind, so you might have missed the part where I'm rich. I hate to be so crudely blunt about it, but...."

"So," John said with a heavy sigh. "After all that, I really am a slave."

"No, you aren't!"

"You bought me, so yes, I think I am." John's chin went up. "If I'm not, I'll take that suit of clothes and the thirty shillings."

"You...I thought...." Rodney suddenly felt sick to his stomach. This wasn't going at all the way he'd imagined it would. "I thought you wanted me." Although he'd meant to sound sure of himself, there was a plaintive note to his voice that made him wince.

"I did...hell, I still do," John said, scowling as if it pained him to admit that much. "But you can't just...." His voice trailed off and he ran a hand through his hair.

"So, it's not me, but the situation? Can we...." Rodney paused and realized that maybe, in his eagerness, he hadn't been clear. "I don't want to share you. I want...I would like it if you were with me."

"I can't be a...." John laughed shortly and Rodney felt a little bit of hope. "I can't be your kept man. There has to be something I can do here to earn my keep."

"Of course!" Rodney all but shouted. "I'm such an idiot, and mark this date, because I don't say that very often. Anyway, right now it's just Ronon and myself doing the training, and I actually don't like it very much."

"You don't? You certainly seemed to enjoy it with me."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Because it was _you_." As John smiled, Rodney continued. "But honestly, I'd rather work on my inventions. If the House had another trainer...."

"And you think I could do it? I'm not exactly a dominant."

"You don't need to be. In fact, some of the best trainers in the business, like Elizabeth, for example, are submissives. I know...you do know that I've actually seen your files? I know you were an officer, and I suspect you were very good with your men."

"I...." John ran his hand through his hair again. "Once I know what I'm doing, you won't try to interfere, will you?"

"All the time," Rodney said cheerfully. "But I have a feeling you'll be perfectly capable of telling me to sod off.

"And," he added, "in our business, trainers make excellent money." He turned away, fidgeting with his cravat in order to give John some time to think it over.

"Here," John said after several moments. "Let me get that for you."

Rodney turned around and his eyes went wide. John was naked and he smiled as he reached for Rodney's cravat. "Really?" Rodney said. "I...."

"You're not going to suddenly go all soft on me, are you?"

"I thought I told you to get down on your knees." Rodney knew he sounded more grateful than stern, but right now he really didn't care.

John went down perfectly, and Rodney felt a weight lift off his shoulders. He'd been fooling himself for weeks, but finally he could have what he wanted. What John wanted.

"Come here," he said, settling down in an armless chair. "Over my lap."

"Yes, sir," John said with a smirk as he crawled across the floor toward Rodney.

"You do not," Rodney said as John settled over his lap, "need to misbehave to get me to do this."

"Oh?"

Rodney patted John's ass and reached for the strap he'd left on the side table. "From now on, all you have to do is ask for it." He brought the strap down hard and John moaned. "Not that you'll have to ask all that often, mind you." As he spoke, Rodney kept up a steady pace and soon John was moving--raising up to meet each blow and then letting it push him back down onto Rodney's lap. He was hard and panting and starting to sweat and Rodney had no idea how he'd managed to keep his hands off John for the last couple of weeks.

 _Speaking of hands on...._

Dropping the strap, Rodney landed the next blow with his hand, spanking John's hot, welted ass as hard as he could. John moaned louder and then muttered, "oh God," when he looked back over his shoulder. "If you keep doing that, I'm going to...."

"Don't," Rodney said, pausing to pinch John's ass hard. "Be good for me."

"God," John moaned again. "Yes...."

Rodney's hand was hot and a little sore by the time he decided that enough was enough. He left John in place and slid his fingers between John's cheeks.

"I'm ready," John gasped as Rodney's finger traced his slick hole and Rodney frowned, not wanting to think about John getting ready for anyone but him.

"You better be," he snapped, and pushed two fingers in hard. John bucked up into his touch and it was Rodney's turn to gasp as the movement resulted in pressure on his cock. Pulling his fingers out, he slapped John's ass sharply.

"On the bed," he said. "Present."

John went into position perfectly, while Rodney struggled to get undressed.

"Please," John said, glancing over his shoulder to give Rodney a somewhat desperate look. "Please...fuck me?"

"I will," Rodney promised. "Damn clothes...."

Finally naked, he joined John on the bed, kneeling behind him. "Knees wider," he said, slapping John's inner thigh.

"Is this really the time for...oh my God!"

Rodney smiled and licked across John's hole again. "I told you I had standards when it comes to cleanliness," he said, his words muffled by the hot skin of John's ass.

"I'll never complain...ohhhhh...about your standards again."

"Liar," Rodney mumbled and went back to licking. John was squirming, but when Rodney pushed his tongue inside, he let out a yelp and went still, clearly afraid Rodney would stop if he moved.

"God...sir, please...I can't...oh God, please...need...."

After another moment, Rodney finally turned his head and bit lightly at one of John's cheeks. "You're not the only one," he said, his voice shaky as he reached for the vial of oil on the nightstand. It seemed to take forever, but then he was slicking his cock with clumsy fingers.

"John," he moaned as he _finally_ pushed inside. "I've wanted you...God, since you first went to your knees."

"You have me," John said, and Rodney reached down, gripped John's hips and took him as hard as he could. John was tight and hot and he cried out and pushed back against Rodney's thrusts; it was shockingly good, better, even than Rodney had imagined it would be.

Rodney grit his teeth, wanting it to last, but John was almost as loud as he'd been on the machine, moaning and begging until all Rodney wanted to do was give John what they both needed. Rodney held out for another moment or two before he sat back, pulling John into his lap.

"John," he gasped, pushing up hard as he reached around to stroke John's cock hard. "Do it...come for me, boy."

Crying out wordlessly, John sank back down on Rodney's cock and came in a slick rush over Rodney's hand. Moaning at the tight heat around his cock, Rodney came mere seconds after John.

"God," he said softly, leaning his head against John's damp shoulder. "That was...you're amazing."

"It was," John murmured. He craned his neck and suddenly they were face to face. "You have no idea how much I've wanted....." His voice trailed off as he moved forward just enough to kiss Rodney hard.

"Me too," Rodney said after a long moment. He kissed John again and then again, just because he could. "Believe me," he added. "Me too."

"Do you want me to sleep here, sir?" John asked as they finally pulled apart.

"Rodney," Rodney said. John looked at him curiously. "Call me Rodney. And yes, I'd like you to stay. If you like. Please?"

"You don't say 'please' easily," John murmured later, after they'd washed up and were settled comfortably in Rodney's big bed.

"No, I really don't." Rodney sighed a little. "I'll try, though. Mostly outside the bedroom, that is."

"And inside?"

"You're mine."

John was silent for a long moment, and Rodney was afraid he'd said the wrong thing.

"Yes," John finally said, moving closer to Rodney. He settled his head on Rodney's shoulder and Rodney wrapped an arm around him. "Yes, I am."

 _-end_

**Author's Note:**

> Written for McShep Match 2010--Team Work--for the prompt "baptism of/by fire." Many many thanks to helens78 and darkrose for the betas and to the spatula crowd for the handholding.
> 
> There's a direct sequel that takes place the next morning--[I Have Made My Choice](http://archiveofourown.org/works/243708).


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